


Tumblr Prompt Collection

by thelonebamf



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4871263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonebamf/pseuds/thelonebamf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm taking a stab at being organized and collecting all the little prompt responses I've done on tumblr here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jupiter Family Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic detailing my thoughts on how Sunny came to be formally adopted by Hal. Even though he has cared for her from day one and would do anything for her- I think he would have feared the notion of saddling anyone with the last name he's viewed as a curse for so long.

I wrote a quick story about my musings this morning, Sunny taking Emmerich as her last name and Snake deciding to follow suit.

“Uncle Hal?” The soft voice barely seemed to reach over the hum of the machines, now a constant in their new home. The engineer turned from his workstation immediately and was met with a wide, hopeful gaze.

“Sunny?” He reached out a hand, inviting the young girl to come closer. A smile crossed his features as he watched her hop forward awkwardly, each step a deliberate decision. He glanced down at the papers clutched in her tiny hand, likely another set of stolen blueprints for the next project she wanted to undertake. Even though the two were no longer building equipment for Snake’s missions, they kept busy.

“Uncle Hal,” she said again, taking a deep breath as she weighed her next words carefully. Her eyes shifted suddenly from his down to her papers, grip growing tight enough to leave a crease. “You know how you said I don’t have to stay inside anymore?”

Hal paused, unsure of what she could mean. The three of them hadn’t lived aboard the NOMAD for some time, and while their modest apartment wasn’t the great American dream home, it had seemed comfortable enough for them all. Outings were fairly routine, even Snake sometimes joined them, insisting the fresh air was good for his health. Still, maybe it wasn’t enough. It didn’t surprise him to find out that Sunny was looking for something more, perhaps she’d finally found a substantial lead regarding her family and was finally ready to find them. After all, with the Patriot AI down, it wasn’t as though she needed their protection anymore.

A flicker of guilt flashed across Hal’s mind for an instant. The notion that they’d kept her longer than she’d wanted, kept her hostage somehow, sickened him. He found himself slipping out of his chair, kneeling on the ground so as to meet her eyes with his own.

“Sunny,” he answered at last. “Your life is your own now. You get to choose how you want to live it.” His voice grew soft and he found his fingers digging into the thick fibers of his slacks as he steeled himself for her response. The girl brightened at his words and he prepared for the inevitable.

“It’s just that, people who live on the outside, they all have families,” the words tumbled from her mouth so quickly Hal hardly had time to compute. “And I love living with you, Uncle Hal, and Snake too, but a real family…” she lost track of her own words and paused to firmly press the papers into his chest.

He held the papers to his chest lightly with his fingertips as Sunny drew back, her face growing red. “Of… of course Sunny, you’re right. And we’ll do everything we can to help you find them.” His voice cracked, throat suddenly dry.

His answer made her pause, head tilted in confusion. “Find… them?” The nervousness in her voice shifted slightly to something different, a bit more like fear. “But I thought…”

Unwilling to make the young girl cry, Hal wrenched the papers away from his chest. His arms moved slowly, deliberately, as though pulling steel from a magnet. A quick glance told him he’d had it all wrong.

“Oh… Oh Sunny…” he whispered. He laughed, more at himself than anything else, allowing the forms she had brought him fall carelessly to the floor. All at once he’d collected her in a hug, and a tiny squeak erupted before the two of them were fighting to hold back their laughter, unable to do anything about the tears.

Hours later, papers signed and mailed, Hal closed the door on Sunny’s room. He was unable and perhaps unwilling to hide the grin that had been on his face for the better part of the day.

“So, Sunny wanted to make it all nice and official?” came a gruff, but familiar voice as he lay in bed.

“Surprised the hell out me,” Hal admitted. “But it made me… happy.” He turned to his side, and gave Snake a shrug. “I guess the best gifts are the ones you didn’t even know you wanted.”

Snake smiled and nodded, bringing a hand up to stroke his chin lightly. “She came to ask me about it, you know. See if I thought it was a good idea.”

Hal’s eyes widened, “and… do you?”

“Of course. Kid’s spent years trying to find the family that doesn’t even know her, let alone love her. Too much time wasted chasing phantoms. But she’s smart. Smart enough to know it’s time to embrace her real family, the one that’s always been there for her.”

“…Snake.”

“She was so excited too,” the smile grew broader on his face as he replayed the scene in his head. “Ran off immediately to do the research, just like someone taught her, and sure enough she shows up with all those forms. Adoption papers. Papers for a name change, although that one was her bright idea. She told me ‘That’s what makes it real. That’s what proves it.’” He chuckled lightly. “Don’t know if I agree with that, but it got me thinking a bit.”

“Dave?”

The room was silent for a moment before Snake sighed and continued, his words growing slower, more thoughtful. “Spent enough time bouncing around the system as a kid, I told Sunny sometimes paperwork takes time to go through, sometimes it gets lost. Recommended she print out another copy of those forms, just in case.” He turned his head, focusing his eyes enough to make out the planes of Hal’s face in the dark. “Didn’t want to say anything to her ‘til I knew how you felt about it, but…”

Hal shot up, pulling himself to rest his weight on his elbows as he looked down at his partner. His mouth gaped open, but he found himself unable to make a sound.

“You can’t very well just put 'DAVID’ on a tombstone.” Hal could hear the crossing of arms beneath the sheets. “'SNAKE’ either, for that matter.”

“S-snake, I don’t know what to say, I…” He reached over to touch his arm, lightly at first before giving it a more reassuring squeeze. “I mean, of course, yes, I’m just shocked, that’s all. I guess with Sunny it makes sense, she’s been looking for such a long time, and I mean I was surprised but sure, I get it and-” All at once he was silenced by the soft pressure of lips against his own.

“Well maybe she’s not the only one who’s been looking.”

And maybe Sunny was wrong, and maybe she was right. But here and now, Hal thought, it sure did feel real.


	2. "Another Fight"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was "Another fight?" featuring Eli (Young Liquid)/Tretij (Young Psycho Mantis). These two punks seem to be fandom darlings at the moment, and I'm happy about that.

Another fight?

 

“It was hardly a fight,” the blonde boy huffed, wiping sweat and grime from his mouth with the back of his glove. “Just a few brats who forgot their place. A momentary oversight on their part.”

 

There was no response, so he continued, “What does it matter to you anyway? Why are you even here?”

 

Where else should I be?

 

The faint groan of steel was heard as he threw himself onto his bunk, arms crossed, gaze fixed firmly in front of him. “That’s not my concern. I’m not your father.”

 

No.

 

“If you’re going to keep haunting this god forsaken floating prison, you’re going to have to at least let me see you. Stop being so bloody… creepy.”

 

A flicker in the air, and all of a sudden a slight form materialized before him, another boy, within a few years of his own age, although it was difficult to tell through the mask and formless clothes that hung from his body. 

 

“I can’t say that’s better, really. You’re still a freak,” spat the other boy. 

 

You’re angry.

 

“I’m angry?” Eli leapt up from his spot on the bunk. “Is that what your powers told you? I’m angry? You let some mad scientist fuck with your head so you can come here and tell me I’m angry?” He reached forward, shoving the floating boy, but his body simply gave in to the force and drifted back a few feet, providing no satisfaction. After a moment Eli retreated and simply stared up at the other boy.

 

“You’re still in my head, aren’t you? Reading my thoughts.” It was as much a questions as an accusation.

 

It is hard not to.

 

Eli scowled and turned his back before whispering at last, “If you really can read my mind, you know what I want.”

 

Yes.

 

“And?” He spun around and his hands balled into fists as though he might reach out to strike againat any moment. “I know you can help me. I know together we can…”

 

It is not possible.

 

“What do you mean?” The anger subsided from his voice, giving way to a mix on confusion and bemusement. “Of course it’s bloody possible. We’ve already done it.”

 

You cannot destroy a single person.

 

Eli swiped at the air but the floating form vanished before he could make content. “What the fuck does that even mean? You don’t know what I am capable of! Of course I can!” He turned again, sweeping his arms in angry arcs as though he might somehow chance into contact. “If you don’t want to help me, that’s fine! I don’t need the help of a sick freak like you!”

 

You cannot destroy a single person, because they are connected. They draw together out of primal instinct. They stay there, like insects drawn to the warmth of a nest. You cannot destroy one alone. You will have to destroy it all.

 

All of a sudden the other boy reappeared, this time alongside Eli, peering curiously at him as he waited for an answer.

 

“Well then,” Eli exhaled, a dark smile creeping onto his face. “What are we waiting for?”


	3. Three Sentence Fic(s?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was given a pair and a single word and had to come up with a three sentence fic.

Otasune + Fantasy?

Some time ago, when they had only just met, Hal had told David he was like something out of a legend. Of course, back then he had only known the silent warrior by the dark serpent emblazoned upon his chest, a surprisingly unique symbol for a man whose success and survival hinged on his ability to remain unnoticed in the shadows. Now that years have passed he knows David to be a man, extraordinary, but still human; yet sometimes he suspects that the two of them are on the cusp of creating a legend of their own.


	4. One Hour Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got a character or pair and six words. I then wrote a short fic for each word within a ten minute time limit. Here's the results!  
> From biofreak659 - "How about Otaliquid (because I'm predictable). As for the words... how about smoke, war, forlornness, aluminum, confident, and cottage?"

Smoke

“Care for a cigarette?” It was a languid request, a voice casually breaking the silence in the dark.

“I uh, don’t really smoke,” came the reply. The owner of the unsure voice remained stock still, arms held stiffly at his side.

“Are you sure? It’s… customary, isn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer there was a flicker of light and soon the air was filled with an instantly recognizable scent. “Here, got it started for you.”

There was a pause, but the Engineer reached out and took the cigarette in his thin fingers, gingerly bringing it to his lips as though he were afraid of being burned. He closed his eyes, blacking out his view of the faint glow at its tip and inhaled, allowing the smoke to circulate in his lungs, too long only home to the frozen, sterile air of the compound. He coughed slightly, but managed to contain it for the most part, saving him the embarrassment and snide remarks he was sure it would have earned.

“Surprised you actually carry these around,” he admitted at last, doing his best to grow accustomed to the taste and trying to understand the appeal. 

There was a soft huff of laughter from the dark and soon a cool, strong hand found its way to his jaw. “It’s nothing like a regular thing, just for special occasions.” 

Hal couldn’t help from coughing at that, and soon his throat and nostrils burned as his cheeks grew hot to match. 

\--  
War

“Turn that damn thing off.”

Hal jolted from his work station, back suddenly rigid after being interrupted from his work. “W-wha?” He glanced around at his computer and the various surrounding devices he used through the course of every day, trying to find the source of Liquid’s disdain. Hopeless, he followed the other man’s gaze and noticed the television on in the corner, long since forgotten.

Without asking for a reason, he rose awkwardly from his chair, legs only just beginning to fall asleep and stepped awkwardly to the set, clicking it off. The remote control was surely around somewhere, but at the moment he didn’t feel he should spend the time to look for it. He hadn’t even been paying attention to the screen, he’d simply turned it on some hours ago to provide some background noise as he worked. He hadn’t felt like wearing headphones that day and Liquid referred to most of his music as “grating nonsense”, so the television had felt like a fair compromise. 

Still, he thought as he made his way back to his seat, there was no reason for Liquid to have reacted so negatively to whatever had been on the screen. There generally was little to be offended by in any of the second rate movies that played on the basic channels at this time of day. He chanced a quick look to see if he could glean any sort of meaning from Liquid’s outburst, but the man remained tense and silent until Hal had been back at work for quite some time.

“Unrealistic garbage,” muttered Liquid as he took a seat with a book whose pages he stared at but never turned. “That’s not what it's like at all.”

\--  
Forlornness

If you asked Hal how he felt, he would have told you he was fine. That’s the right answer, the one people want to hear so they can go about the rest of their day, feeling self-satisfied in their ability to feel empathy and compassion, without having to actually spend the energy for either.

Every day, to his supervisors, to his coworkers, to himself, he repeated the same words over and over, “I’m fine, thanks. How are you?” and received the same answer in kind. 

It was easy to say. Easy to lie. Easy to let the words spill out in to the air and accept the smiles and nods he was given in return. 

“And how are you, Doctor?”

“I’m fine.”

“Is that so?”

“Y-yes. Rex’s AI system should be up according to schedule, despite some early setbacks, so everything’s fine.”

The blonde man, who had shown up only days before yet whose very presence seemed to command every facet of life at Shadow Moses leaned into Hal’s face, scrutinizing every line, every wrinkle he saw there, as though they somehow spelled out the truth. 

“That’s not the answer I want.”

“S-Sorry?” Hal stammered. “I mean, I could try pulling a few all nighters to get things going a little bit quicker, but to be honest, you’d be looking at some quickly diminishing returns and there’s always the chance that I’d end up making some mistakes that would end up taking longer so it’s probably better if…” He was abruptly cut off by the firm pressure of a hand against his chest, heat seeping through the thick fabric of his parka.

“I mean,” Liquid corrected, his voice somewhere between a hiss and a whisper, “How are you, Doctor.”

Hal’s eyes opened wide as he stared back, feeling more than a little like a cornered animal. He couldn’t’ remember the last time he’d made direct eye contact with another human being for anything more than a second. A second push against his chest snapped him out of his trance and he mumbled an answer.

“… terrible…”

\--  
Aluminum

“Heheh, what? Say that again!”

“Aluminium!”

“Heh, what? Man, that’s… huh…heh.”

“Will you stop that giggling? It’s not very becoming of a grown man.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know, it’s just, there’s something kind of funny about it.” Hal dropped the thin box at his side allowing the silver roll to spill out onto the floor. He sat back slightly, looking surprisingly thoughtful in a graceless heap on the floor.

Liquid snatched the roll up and threw him a glare. “There’s no need to waste it,” he snapped as he took over the delicate task of improving the signal on the only working television in the entire base. He glowered at the other man, still unbelieving of the fact that the man who could build a bloody massive robot had no means for improving the TV signal beyond hanging foil on the antenna. 

“A-loo-min-ee-yum,” Hal repeated, allowing himself to taste each syllable.

“That’s how it’s pronounced! I can’t be bothered if your stupid country chooses to drop vowels it considers inconvenient.” He turned to glower at the engineer once more, but was stopped short at the strange expression on Hal’s face. “Is something the matter?” He asked, now more interested in whatever was going on in his companion’s head than the snowfall on the screen.

Hal shook his head, eyes unfocused as though he were trying to remember parts of a dream. “It’s just, funny, no not that way,” he added quickly. “Just, something familiar, like maybe, I’ve heard it that way before?”

“What, did little Hal have a proper English nanny? Bloody Mary Poppins wrapped up treats for the little boy? Sandwiches for take away?” Liquid rolled his eyes and returned to his task. 

“No, just…” Hal shook his head, “never mind. It’s gone.”

\--  
Confident

“You do seem to be confident.”

“Everybody’s good at something.”

“Yes, you do keep reminding me.”

Liquid was good at many things, exceptional, really. He was not shy about this fact, and in general was happy to remind any of his underlings exactly why he was in charge. His physical prowess was unmatched, except perhaps by Vulcan Raven. He was an excellent shot, although perhaps not as specially trained as Sniper Wolf. He knew his IQ to be in the genius level, though what he might learn through hours or days of subterfuge Decoy Octopus or Psycho Mantis could glean though the delicate application of deception and otherworldly abilities. He was a brilliant leader and tactician, though sometimes he found himself wondering why it was necessary to share all of his plans with the old man.

He leaned forward, his chest grazing the engineer’s shoulder as the man continued to work, typing away as lines of code flitted across the screen. Hal had just explained the meaning of his work with the practiced ease of someone who was in their element. The man had nothing to prove, not that he thought Liquid was likely to be impressed anyway, but was genuinely passionate about his work. Liquid supposed he could almost see the tiny sparks and bolts of inspiration firing behind his eyes.

He sighed as his hand rested on the desk, near enough to Hal’s arm to make him pause in his work.

“Doctor,” he began, continuing only when the engineer looked up at him through his ridiculous circle lenses. 

“Yeah?”

“What’s it like… to be the best?”

\--  
Cottage

Hal scrunched his face tightly, pointing his head at the metal ceiling as he willed the memories to return to him. “I dunno, it was just, a house. Just, normal. Two stories. We had… we had a pool. I had my own bedroom, but share a bathroom with…well I shared it. Mostly a lot of white and pictures of trees or flowers or whatever, nothing art that people buy so the walls aren’t bare. Just… normal. You know?”

Liquid shook his head, “No, not really,” he admitted. “I never lived in such a place.”

“What, not even as a kid? Just apartments and whatever? That’s pretty normal too, I guess. Maybe more so in,” he stopped, realizing he had no idea where Liquid had in fact grown up. “London?”

Liquid’s snort made it clear that “London” was not the correct answer. “Let’s just say I was a military brat from day one.”

“Oh, moved around a lot?” Hal nodded. Most of the people on the base were science geeks like him, but there were a fair number of military personnel around as well, and he wagered a good number of them were from similar backgrounds. “Guess that makes sense.” He swiveled his chair around to face the other man, happy to take a break from his work for even the most mundane conversation. “Think you’ll ever be in the market for something a little less…” he waved an arm around vaguely. 

“What, leave the only life I’ve ever known? Get a boring job in a shop somewhere selling shoes or suits or heaven only knows what else?” Liquid scoffed.

Hal had to bite his lip to keep from interjecting a comment about men’s shirts.

“Move to the countryside? Get a little cottage?”

Hal’s hands flew up in surrender, “Okay, okay I get it! A career man. That’s fine. That’s respectable. No one’s saying you should just up and run from your destiny.” He turned his chair back to his work, figuring there was nothing more to say on the matter. He was surprised to hear a creak beside him and turned his head to see Liquid had thrown himself onto the nearest seat with a surprising lack of his usual grace.

“I never said I didn’t want to.”


	5. One Hour Challenge (Otacon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I asked for a character or pair and six words, then wrote a story for each word, limiting myself to ten minutes a piece.
> 
> "Do Otacon (of course) and your 6 words are Toys, Phone, Child, Location, Chickens, and Journal."
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING (first time I've ever had to do that) - "Phone" has to do with Julie and references abuse.

Toys

“This isn’t wrong, is it?” Hal asked his partner as he picked up the components from the floor. Gently, he placed each one into the cardboard box he held securely beneath his arm, as though he were moving a pile of sleeping kittens and was determined not to wake a single one.

Snake stood a few feet away watching the other man tidy up and frowned. “I don’t think I understand the question.”

There was a light chink of metal as the box was placed on the ground and the pieces settled against each other. “Dunno, just seems strange I guess. E.E…” he trailed off but bolstered himself with a deep breath and continued, “Emma had all manner of toys when she was growing up. Dolls, crayons, you name it. And she had the outdoors. But Sunny… he sighed.

Snake took a few steps towards the other man and bent over slightly, even though the action wasn’t as easy as it had once been. He firmly clasped a hand on Hal’s shoulder and shook his head.

“That kind of thing doesn’t really matter as much to a kid as adults might think. Kids don’t care if they’ve got the latest toy or great-grandma’s old hand-me-downs. What’s important is that there’s someone there with them who gives a damn. I’m not much for tea parties and coloring books, and I know you sure as hell aren’t, so there’s no use pretending.”

Hal couldn’t help but let a slight chuckle escape his lips. The visual of Snake crouching down at a table to have tea with Sunny was too much.

“You just keep teaching that little girl what you know. It doesn’t take a genius to see she’s got the knack for it.” He smiled before pulling himself back up to his full height. “Keep her busy, keep her learning. She’ll end up just fine.”

\--

Phone

“Let it ring.”

A sigh. The soft rustling of blankets. Lips pressed against skin over and over, creating an almost imperceptible sound.

He shudders, head thrown back, fists balled so tightly he feels his fingers might break and wonders if that would be enough, finally enough to make him stop this, once and for all.

But when he looks down he sees her eyes, deep and dark and also strangely sad and he wonders how long it’s been since anyone else has looked at him, really looked at him and his eyes slowly close as he loses himself again.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not once, not as often as… no, not once.

He curses himself even as he’s here in this moment trapped beneath her, trapped beneath the crushing guilt he feels and he tries desperately to think of a single other person he could possibly blame, but comes up wanting.

He can’t blame it on his father, the man who is never home. Doesn’t that mean that he trusts him? Doesn’t that mean he’s been betrayed?

He can’t blame it on Julie, the woman who is always so sad. She’s only reaching out to him, isn’t she? Doesn’t that mean she cares?

So he blames himself, the strangled cries he makes melding imperceptibly into genuine sobs. His body shakes as he is overcome.

And the phone continues to ring.

\--

Child

The door closes behind him, and there’s a strange sense of finality. For now, Jack is gone. From now on, the man has one mission, to survive.

This is no small task when one lives in the world they all inhabit. A world of spies and soldiers. A world of war and of wonder.

A world in which an antisocial super-soldier and socially inept hacker have found themselves responsible for a child.

Somehow, Snake had assumed that Raiden was bringing them a boy. Maybe it had just been wishful thinking. To his thinking, boys just needed plenty of exercise and enough food on their plate. In that way, they weren’t too different from the dogs he’d devoted so much of his retired life to.

Life is full of surprises.

The girl stared up at them, her eyes wide and clearly taking in everything about her surroundings. Snake had said the two of them would have to keep an eye on her at first. There was no telling what she had picked up while she was in the custody of the Patriots.

He found himself alone with the girl now, the engineer nowhere to be found.

“Stay.” Snake told the girl, his large hand patting her gently on the head before he went to find his partner.

Hal was seated in his room, lights off, computer silent. He’d shut the door behind him, but Snake felt this was a conversation that was a long time coming.

“You aren’t going to hurt her,” he said at last.

“Yeah,” Hal whispers back, his shoulders go slack as he releases the breath he’s been holding. “Yeah, I know.”

\--  
Location

“Hmmm…”

“Mmm.”

“What about… hmm.”

”I’m sorry Sunny, this isn’t too much fun, is it?”

“No, it’s, it’s good. We’re a family and we… we have to decide these kinds of things together.” A tiny hand reached forward to hold his own. “Uncle Hal?” She asked after a moment. “Where did you and Snake meet?”

Hal was taken aback for a moment, both surprised that he’d never told Sunny the story and that the thought hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Tell you what, why don’t we go there?”

Soon enough the two were enroute, and Sunny was only too happy to hear the story of how her two favorite people came together. When the plane landed, she squealed with excitement.

“It’s c-cold!” She shivered, perhaps exaggerating a bit. “Do you ever get used to it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Hal nodded, “well… no. I always thought it was freezing.”

She laughed at that, but soon enough was pulling his arm, eager to step out into the snow.

They didn’t go to Shadow Moses. Hal didn’t think he could take it, even if there was a way to get there without taking a huge amount of risk. Instead, they stuck to the larger cities. Sunny visited museums and learned about the Eskimo. They visited the coast and stared into the sea, Hal teasing that he thought he could see Russia if he focused. At one point they were fortunate to visit a breeder of sled dogs, Sunny instantly enjoying herself as she played on the floor with the pups.

“Snake had dogs, didn’t he, Uncle Hal?”

“Sure did. Like… fifty dogs.”

“That’s so funny!” She laughed.

(AND OUT OF TIME SORRY.)

\--

Chickens

“What,” Snake paused, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer, “are those?”

Hal hoisted the cages up into the NOMAD’s hold. “Well, chickens, obviously.” He stepped up himself, joining the soldier who was staring at the birds distrustfully.

“I can see they’re chickens, Hal, but why are they here?”

“They were a gift!” he chirped back. “Helped some local guy with his truck while I was out getting supplies, and he wouldn’t let me walk away without taking them.” He placed his hands on his hips as he looked around for a secure location to set the cages.

Snake sighed and lit a cigarette. He walked around the birds who rustled their feathers. “They smell, Hal. What are you trying to do, collect ‘em two by two? Starting an ark?”

“Well it would be a piss poor ark wouldn’t it?” Hal retorted, lifting up a cage and finding a place for it against the wall. “They’re all lady chickens. We’ll have eggs!”

“When was the last time you ate a damn egg?”

“Well maybe I’d eat more eggs if we had them around,” Hal snapped as he secured the second cage. “Besides…”

Snake cocked an eyebrow as a look of satisfaction crossed his face. “Ah, here it comes. What is it, Hal?”

He adjusted his glasses as he turned. “Sunny already loves them.”

There was a disgruntled huff as Snake stomped off, knowing he was beaten. Otacon knew better than to argue with Snake regarding missions, and Snake would never think of challenging his partner when it came to the nuts and bolts- but the two of them were powerless to challenge Sunny once she’d made up her mind. It was lucky for the both of them that she was a child of exceedingly few demands.

A broad grin crept onto Hal’s face as he yelled after his friend. “She named one after you!”

\--

Journal

February 20 2005-

So close. A week, maybe two? Probably for the best. The new ‘powers that be’ seem to want to keep things on a tighter leash. Wonder if it’s time to start thinking about what’s next.

February 25 2005-

REX is nearly there but I’m afraid of what’s happening at SM. Might have made a new friend, but not sure. She’s really pretty. Sometimes I see her outside when I’m feeding the dogs. Not sure I can say any more.

February 27 2005-

Everything feels wrong. I’m one of the last ones here, at least as far as the engineers go. REX is pretty much ready to go, but I’m having doubts.

April 3 2005

Don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Got a call from Natasha. It was awkward, but I think she’s got the right idea. Keep thinking about S. I assume he made it out okay. Still surprised as hell that I did.

June 10 2005

Spoke with Natasha again for the first time in months. I was surprised to get her call. Even more surprised at what she had to say. Guess I’m heading back to Alaska? Hope she’s not sending me on a wild goose chase.

June 22 2005

Oh god, maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t found him. Is this the same guy? Spent the whole day cleaning a cabin that smelled like dogs and booze. This isn’t what I signed up for. HELP.

June 23 2005

Spent most of the day alone again. Snake seems to spend a lot of his time hungover. At least the place doesn’t reek anymore.

June 24 2005

Shock! The man is sober! He seemed shocked when he finally realized I cleaned up the place. Just gotta keep him together long enough to hear me out.

(AND THEN I RAN OUT OF TIME)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This set was harder than I anticipated! I actually ran out of time on some of these and they got a little out of hand.
> 
> "Location" was meant to be about Sunny and Hal having a conversation about where to bury Dave, but it turned into a weird... vacation.
> 
> "Journal" may have been a bit ambitious. I would have liked to have ended it with Philanthropy's true start.


	6. One Hour Challenge - Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I asked for a character or pair and six words, then wrote a story for each word, limiting myself to ten minutes a piece.
> 
> "Hey, saw your post. So here we go! (I'll start easy-ish): Solid Snake -Callous -Dirge -Covet -Erasure -Guile -Oracle (It doesn't matter to me if you make this a pairing. Go where you writing wills you to. Good luck! :D)"

**-Callous**

What was the saying? That to learn all you needed to know about a person, you should look at their shoes?

One glance at the engineer’s sneakers let you know their owner was the sort of man who prioritized comfort and practicality over style. Sunny’s boots bore awkward creases from where they’d been folded over to accommodate their diminutive host. Snake’s own pair were scuffed and stained, veterans of countless sneaking missions.

It was a funny sort of idea, but perhaps there was some truth to it, Hal mused to himself. You certainly could learn a lot from something like shoes: a person’s profession, perhaps where they had traveled, maybe even something about their habits in regard to hygiene. All in all, an excellent picture, but not a complete one, to his way of thinking.

Perhaps it was because his life revolved around his machines, but he thought more about people’s hands than their feet. His own fingers were crisscrossed with hairline scars from years of working with machinery. Sunny’s hands by comparison, were delicate and nimble but so far unmarred.

And Snake’s…

Snake’s hands were pale, weathered, and belonged to a man much older than himself. He hadn’t earned the wrinkled skin or pronounced veins, Hal thought with a frown.

What he had earned, were the scars, the callouses that graced his palm, his fingers. Even now, Hal would catch himself staring at Snake’s hands. Hands that could change the world.

Or let it be.

\--

 

**-Dirge**

What music do you play for the dead?

How do you even begin to make that kind of decision?

Are you supposed to pick a song that somehow encapsulates everything that person was, through some sort of magic end up finding that perfect track that wraps up their life, their hopes and dreams in a tidy three minute package?

Is it more tactful to play something without words, something reverent to honor the departed?

Perhaps the opposite is true. Maybe it’s best to pick something light-hearted, to celebrate their life and accomplishments, although for the last several years the two of them has done little the general public would find worth accolade, if they knew about their struggle at all.

What, he wonders, even is the purpose of music at a funeral. What is the reason for a funeral at all. The dead are dead; nothing will ever change that fact. Perhaps the ceremony is simply to make the survivors feel better about it all, but he can’t imagine the words, the music, the prayer or ceremony that would. So he returns to basics, focuses on the first question that had come to him. What music do you play for the dead?

And as he holds in his arms the cold body of his friend, his partner, the brilliant fool who was never meant to leave him behind, he finds he has no answer.

 

\--

 

**-Covet**

Humans need three things to survive.

Food. Water. Shelter.

As he grew older and his life became more complicated, inextricably tied with the military, politics, the hidden movements of the hands that controlled the world, his list grew longer.

Food. Water. Shelter.

Weapons. Ammunition. Information. Training. Strength.

And if he was being entirely honest, luck.

When it all became too much he left his life behind. It was surprising how easily he adapted to his new life in Alaska, miles and miles from another living soul. Once again, he returned to the basics.

Food. Water. Shelter.

Eventually, he finds subsistence to be unfulfilling. The dogs help. They keep him active, give him a reason to get up in the morning. He trains himself to think in new ways, as the leader of a team, even if it is just a pack of huskies running through the snow. He learns a new kind of patience and relishes the respect and affection his dogs give him.

He tells himself it’s enough.

He tells himself he wouldn’t just leave them behind if another mission called him in.

He tells himself as long as his needs are met, there’s nothing else he could want.

He knows it isn’t true.

 

\--

 

**-Erasure**

The youth stands at the ready, back straight and rigid, eyes planted firmly on the desk of the man before him. It’s covered in papers and folders, slim files of information and the occasional photo.

The man at the desk seems unconcerned by what lies before him, choosing instead to assess the young man that had been led into his office. There’s a resemblance of course, but there still remains the differences that come from having led different lives in different times.

“You’ve been recommended for special training,” he says at last, shuffling the papers into a loose order. “You should be proud.”

There is no answer aside from a silent nod of affirmation, acceptance.

“At ease, soldier,” he added, gratified to see the young man’s posture relax.

“You’re going to need a code name. That’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” His conversational tone does little to relax the soldier, now nervously eyeing the thick black marker harshly making its way through each of his personnel files.

“Yes sir.”

Soon the stack is set aside, line after line having been blacked out, no longer part of official record.

Moments later, Snake steps out of the office and into the hall.

 

-Guile

“I don’t think you’ll ever convince me you didn’t know about this,” Snake muttered as he pulled his backpack from the car.

“I swear! We’re here for information and that’s it!” came a beleaguered cry. “You know better than anyone that’d I’d rather get my intel online without anyone being the wiser, but sometimes you have to go… analog.”

Snake rolled his eyes, scanning the surroundings for any signs of a threat, and quickly dismissed the gaggle of teenagers with brightly colored wigs and what appeared to be paper-mache swords. This was not going to be easy.

Hal shuffled his feet, sticking close to Snake’s side and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “Look, it’s not my fault the hotel booked two events in the same weekend. That’s practically unheard of. We just need to get in to the Veteran’s reunion, make contact, get the info we’re looking for and get out. We don’t even need to stay overni-“ he stopped short after running into Snake’s back.

He peeked around the side of his partner and saw what had caught his attention. The hotel lobby and bar were indeed full of veterans, most well into their golden years. Events like this gave them a chance to share stories and provide support to one another in a world that didn’t always appreciate their sacrifice.

“There’s no way that kid is army.” The disapproval was so thick in his voice Otacon could nearly taste it. He glanced into the bar and indeed saw a young man, old enough to drink but just barely. He looked a bit like he’d rolled around in an army surplus store and simply walked out wearing whatever stuck.

“Oh, oh goodness, that’s awkward,” Hal admitted. “I guess those sorts of video games are popular enough, kids like to dress up. But... I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than being dressed as a ‘Call of Duty’ reject around actual veterans.”

A group of Street Fighter cosplayers chose that moment to walk by, and Hal found himself wincing as he caught sight of a comically oversized blonde flat-top. “Okay, I can think of maybe one thing.”

 

\--

**-Oracle**

To start with, he follows his advice because he has no other choice. To say the mission has gone awry would be a hilarious understatement, and he finds himself relying heavily on what the engineer says because even though the man is a naïf, he seems to genuinely want to help.

Later, he follows his advice because he has no direction of his own. This crazy notion of a top secret peace seeking organization seems foolhardy at best and lethal at worst, but the man before him is so sure, so earnest, he finds himself saying yes.

As things become serious, he follows his advice because the man lays out every last detail for him. He explains the risks, the margin of error. He reduces each mission to facts, numbers, to raw data so he can squeeze the raw truth from it. It’s calculating yes, but he knows it’s because the other man couldn’t stomach the thought of sending him in to a mission he deemed unsafe.

This time, he follows his advice because things went so badly the last time. It was close, too close, and the engineer remains shaken. He can still hear his partner’s voice ringing in his ear, shouting his name. When Snake had returned, much later than the agreed time and in much worse condition than either had anticipated it was weeks before Hal could even stomach the idea of sending him out again.

Now he hears, he listens, and he follows.

He doesn’t think about why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So "Guile" is silly and based on a thing that actually happened to me several years ago. I went to a very small anime convention at a hotel that was also hosting an event for veterans. I saw a Big Boss cosplayer walking around and thought I couldn't imagine anything more embarrassing than being dressed as Snake around people who actually served in the military. Then a Guile walked by and I was proven wrong. ^_^;;


	7. One Hour Challenge (Otasune)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got a character and six words, then had to write a short fic for each one, limiting myself to ten minutes a piece.
> 
> "For your writing exercise? Otasune pls? (orange, feet, door, feathers, coffee, windchime). You can do it!"

**Orange**

Hal almost didn’t notice the orange until it rolled off of a stack of papers, hitting his lap before eventually landing on the floor. He paused, pulling his eyes from the computer screen, taking a moment as they adjusted from its white glow to the grey of the room.

He gave the fruit an experimental kick with the side of his sneaker, a quizzical expression on his face as it rolled another few inches. Where had it come from? He plucked it from the ground and ran his fingers over its bumpy skin, cold to the touch. He wasn’t even aware there had been anything in the apartment besides the usual stock of instant noodles and MREs Snake insisted on buying when there was an army surplus store in town.

Still carrying the orange, he stood and began walking around the small apartment in an attempt to find some answers. Was this part of Snake’s provisions? Should it be put back in the refrigerator? Were oranges even in season- some small part of his mind wondered?

“Snake?” he asked, padding around a corner on stocking feet. “Snake is this your orange?”

The bedroom yielded no Snake, and no answers. The man seemed to have left their hideout for the time being, leaving nothing but a single piece of citrus behind.

Hal returned to his seat, setting the fruit aside and got back to work. Every so often he’d give the orange an absentminded poke, his nose crinkling each time at the faint aroma it gave off.

After a few hours, Snake returned, arms full of supplies he’d spent the afternoon procuring. Hal leapt up from his workstation to help put them away. The orange sat forgotten for the rest of the night.

The weather took a turn for the worse the following day, and Snake made an idle comment over the morning paper about flu season being just around the corner.

“Can’t afford sick days. Make sure to keep hydrated. Rest up. Get plenty of Vitamin C.”

\--

**Feet**

He walks behind the man out of sheer survival instinct. The two of them are fighting against the wind, still several miles to go until they reach their destination. He’s started to lose some feeling in his extremities, woefully underdressed for the climate, parka aside.

They walk together. Cabin fever has finally gotten the best of them both. Snake has spent the last hour pacing their motel room like a caged animal; Otacon has faired just as poorly, making ten mistakes in as many minutes. Machines locked down, room secured, the two decide it’s worth the risk to take a break and get some fresh air.

He walks ahead of the man, tripping slightly as he’s pulled forward by Sunny’s exuberance. She laughs, happy to be outside in the spring. Hal casts a glance over his shoulder and sees Dave a few steps behind. He gestures softly with his hand, ushering the two of them on. Nodding, he allows the girl to continue to lead him on a quest for the perfect picnic spot.

He walks alone, feet shuffling as he struggles to find his direction. This world is strange, and open and… ordinary. Sometimes he imagines they are walking together. Sometimes he imagines he’ll find his way.

\--

**Door**

He stands for several minutes in the snow, wondering if he’s made a mistake.

He realizes it’s a bit late to be having second thoughts, but Hal is nothing if not a scientist, an analyst and if he’s totally honest, a bit of a worrier.

His fingers begin to grow numb, from the weight of his hastily packed duffle bag as much as the biting cold of the Alaskan wilderness. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice scolds him for his indecision, reminding him that warmth is a mere thirty feet ahead.

Natasha had made so much sense when they spoke. He’d decided that day at Shadow Moses to take responsibility for his actions, to bring an end to the destruction caused by his creations. At first, he’d had faith in the public’s desire for truth and imagined her book would open enough eyes to bring nuclear conflict to a screeching halt.

Clearly, that had been more than a little naïve on his part.

The truth of the matter was that no matter what the various governments of the world promised or claimed, there would always be those who chose to operate independently. All it took was a single madman who genuinely believed that nuclear weapons were their homeland’s only chance at salvation and you had the seeds for an all-out war. You couldn’t fight that kind of madness with diplomatic luncheons and speeches. This wasn’t a debate, it was a war.

And to fight a war, you needed a soldier.

Not just a soldier, Natasha had insisted, but “the” soldier. Snake was the only man they knew with the training to turn Philanthropy from an idealistic pipe dream to a reality. There just remained the little detail of convincing him it was a worthwhile cause.

Hal wasn’t sure if he’d be welcomed or tossed back out in to the snow. Hell, for all he knew, Meryl would answer the door and slam it in his face after a single glance.

He shook his head, dismissing the notion. There was no time for doubt or second guesses.

The deep breath he took was meant to calm his nerves, but for the most part it just made him cough as the freezing air filled his lungs. Somehow it still managed to clear his mind.

Regaining his composure he closed the distance between himself and the cabin, and knocked on the door.

\--

 

**Feathers**

He’s watched Snake handle countless weapons. He’s seen him rip apart cloth for bandages on the field. More than once, he’s seen the man crush an aluminum can when its contents alone failed to relieve the stress of a particularly rough day.

They’re strong hands, accustomed to cuts, bruises and breaks. He’s cleansed their wounds and set their bones more than once. More than one man has had their breath stolen away by their grip. More than one life has been lost to their skill.

But in this moment, he can barely feel their presence. Fingers flutter across cheek, knuckles ghost their way against his neck, teasing him into leaning into their touch.

 There will be time enough for the yearning push and pull, the strength of arms wrapping around him, for possession.

But for now, in these first moments it is time only for sighs, for whispers, and feathers.

\--

**Coffee**

“Don’t really drink much of the stuff, myself,” Snake admits one day. “Not exactly good for you.”

Hal says nothing about the cigarette the man is currently lighting up.

“That’s fine then” he answers. “I’ll just get the stuff I like, make it when I need to. I’d rather drink a pot of coffee than any one of those energy drinks. Yech.”

Snake chuckles and casts only a cursory glance at the package that’s been thrown into the cart.

It’s nothing fancy, but the aroma soon becomes one of the few constants in his life. The two of them are constantly on the move, in and out of ramshackle apartments and cheap motel rooms. The cities and landscape change. The hum of Otacon’s machines and the scent of coffee remain.

The engineer is fortunate that his favorite brand is cheap and easily found on any convenience store shelf. He’ll drink anything, to be honest, but values anything that retains a semblance of flavor after having grown cold. At first, he makes good on his word. First thing in the morning he brews a pot, just as much as he’ll drink in the day ahead.  It’s a rare thing, but once in a while he becomes so wrapped up in his work he forgets to brew a second pot.

One night he reaches for his mug, fingers seeking out the cold ceramic as his eyes never leave the screen, one hand still hen-pecking at the keys.

He smiles as he finds the cup is warm.

\--

**Wind Chime**

“They’re supposed to be good luck, aren’t they?” Hal asks as he pokes the colored glass, sending it spinning on its silvery line.

Snake shrugs, “Don’t think I’ve heard that one. It came with the cabin and I grew used to it before I ended up taking it down.”

A breeze blows across the porch and an amelodic tune fills the air.

“Sure,” Hal adds at last. “They eat up all the nightmares or something like that. I must’ve read it somewhere.”

“You’re thinking of dreamcatchers,” Snake huffs. “It’s a Native American thing. Doubt you see much of them this far North, though.”

Hal flushed. “Well now I just feel stupid.”

“It’s not a big deal. I think the idea is that they intercept the bad dreams, let the good ones through.”

“That sounds nice. Wish it worked for other things too. Ideas. _People._ ”

Snake crossed his arms as he leaned against the wooden door frame. “Dunno about that. Guess it would make life easier, but if you only met good people you’d never make mistakes to learn from.”

Hal sighed, cheeks growing redder. “I have a feeling I’d have no trouble making mistakes on my own.”

“That’s the thing though,” Dave said, casting him a sidelong look. “If you had some kind of catcher than only let the good people through, you’d never meet the people who weren’t there just yet. Killers who were tired of bloodshed. Idealists who have something to learn about being practical.”

“And the bad dreams?”

“Well, maybe the bad dreams are the ones that inspire you to make something good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Feathers" is as close as I have ever come to writing porn. >.>


	8. Maid Cafe AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't actually a prompt, but some very cute art by tumblr user ggoldbear came across my dash and I felt compelled to write this really quickly.  
> Art is here: http://ggoldbear.tumblr.com/post/140256453299

Japan is full of niche cafes. Manga cafes. Character cafes. Cafes where you can enjoy coffee with cats, rabbits or owls. 

Even the maid cafes cater to a number of diverse interests. Cross-dressing cafes in particular are very popular.

He hasn’t been working there long. He isn’t even very good at his job, objectively speaking. His first check only came to ¥630 after the deductions for his uniform and all the broken dishes. During a rush, he’s likely to trip over his own feet, drop the tray of drinks and sweets he’s carrying to the crowded tables, sound of broken glass immediately followed by a string of apologies, and perhaps some tears.

At least there are some regulars who find it endearing.

There’s a lot to do in a cafe besides just carrying food and drink. You have to be able to make conversation, to put on a smile and bring one to the faces of your guests. You have to know the words to the popular songs, and be able to lead visitors in singing along. He’s good at that, surprisingly.

It’s not just about the food or the outfits. It’s about the atmosphere, and attention to detail.

He never thought drawing a bear would be the source of so much anxiety.

At least, it was supposed to be a bear. It’s hard to tell, face smeared as it is. Strawberry sauce is a poor medium. He’s been practicing after work, plate after plate covered in what could be rabbits, but might be cats. The dogs are looking better which is a shame as no one ever seems to request one.

“You should try drawing something you like first. Get used to it.”

There’s always a kind word and melon soda waiting for him at the cafe bar the end of the day. He’s come to look forward to it, depend on it a little even.

Some days later he gets his chance. A request for “a surprise crepe” comes to him and he’s determined to make it a good one.

The robot design is a hit, cell phones out around the table, snapping photos and uploading them instantly. An order for another just like it comes in, then another. There’s talk of adding them to the menu. It’s a good day.

It’s a good feeling, to be able to sit at the counter after the lights are off and the tables are cleaned. To look down at the drink waiting for him and have something good to report. To be able to meet his coworker’s smile with one of his own. It isn’t until the glass is cleared away that he notices the digits scrawled in the corner of the napkin.

 

It's a great day.


	9. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on some Role-Swap art and headcanons by 140-48, ggoldbear, and setzergabbiani: A reimagined encounter between elite soldier Hal Emmerich (codename Otacon) and a disaffected scientist by the name of David Sears.

“How long are you going to stay in there?” **  
**

“Nnn…just… a… little…”

Hal Emmerich, codename: “Otacon” crept a few steps closer to the metal locker, concerned by the dull rattling and heavy breathing he could just make out from within.

“Everything alright?”

He supposed the sudden appearance of the cyborg ninja, and their brief altercation in the scientist’s work space probably came as a shock to the man, and taking refuge behind the nearest door was a reasonable reaction. Still, Dr. Sears had been hiding for several minutes now and Hal was beginning to worry.

“You uh, ready to come out then?”

“Y—yeah… c-coming…”

Hal grimaced, almost turned to leave in disgust when the door finally slid open and he caught sight of the man he’d been looking for. He stood, hunched, leaning forward in the locker that was just barely large enough to hold him, strands of hair stuck for his forehead, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Dr. Sears?”

“Your uniform…” the man said with careful consideration as he drew the edges of his teeth over his bottom lip. “It’s… different than theirs.”

Hal looked down at the muted tones of his sneaking suit. True enough, it was instantly recognizable when compared to the standard issue green, white, or black of the genome soldiers but then again the idea was for him to avoid being seen at all.

“I…” He searched for the words to try and answer whatever the doctor was getting at but came up wanting. “You… you’re the chief engineer of the Metal Gear Rex project, right?”

The sigh that came from the man was almost… disappointed. “Yeah, I suppose.” He slid out of the locker, and stumbled none too gracefully to a desk where he took a seat, and a handful of tissues from a conveniently located box.

Otacon watched his awkward collapse at the desk. Something was off about the way he was walking.

“Are you hurt?”

“Huh? Oh.” There was a snort as David processed what the soldier must be thinking. “Nah, I’ll be alright. Once I get a change of clothes. It’s uh… been a long couple of days.”

“I have some questions I need to ask you about Metal Gear,” Hal pressed on despite the man’s practically cavalier attitude about the entire situation. Didn’t he know the compound was under the control of international terrorists? Or did he just not care?

“Metal Gear?” It was difficult to tell if David was surprised to hear Hal knew about the real purpose for Shadow Moses’ existence, or if he was really that out of it, but he continued anyway.

“What’s it’s real purpose?”

“Nukes.”

“What?” Hal stared in disbelief.

“Uh, I mean- it shoots down nukes.” David threw the wad of used tissues down on the top of the desk where it joined a pile of the same before running a hand over his tired face. “Mobile… TMD. For uh. Defense.”

“That’s a lie!” Hal shouted, hands in fists at his side as he drew closer. “I’ve already received intelligence that Metal Gear is a fully functional, nuclear equipped mobile weapon!”

“Huh.” David fell back into his chair, a squeak echoing in the chill of the room. “Yeah. Probably.” He shrugged.

“The terrorists are planning to man the Metal Gear with a fully functioning nuclear missile. Are you telling me you already knew?”

“Of course not but…” He cleared his throat before taking a battered pack of cigarettes, offering one to the soldier.

Hal declined.

“A nuclear missile on Rex? I mean, makes sense. What kind of idiot designs a machine that is fully capable of being armed with and firing a nuke- and then expects it never to be used that way?” He shifted the cigarette to one side of his mouth as he searched for a lighter. “Defense is all well and good, but what people really want at the end of the day is to really lay it in to each other, once and for all. It’s not called the “Peace Industry”, after all.”

Finding the lighter at last, he relaxed a little more, falling into a deep slouch.

“And you don’t have a problem with that? This is your work! Your research being twisted for terrorist’s demands!”

“Look kid, at the end of the day- a job’s just a job. They tell me to design a machine that walks? That can be outfitted with a rail-gun? That has the capacity to carry eight missiles to any location and then fire them? And you expect me to be surprised when it gets used for just that? Terrorists or freedom fighters. Their government or ours. Doesn’t matter who gets their hands on a weapon like this, it’s not going to be good news.”  

He snubbed out the end of his cigarette before lighting another. “Using science to help mankind… that’s just in the movies.”

“So you’re not going to help me, then?”

“Didn’t say that.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a cloud that Hal chose to believe was mistakenly aimed at his face. “You’ll need to find Rex, and destroy it. I can show you the way but,” he eyed Hal slowly from top to bottom. “Don’t suppose you have another one of those suits tucked away in there somewhere.”

“Uh… no. Sorry. But there’s no reason you should need to come with me,” Hal considered. “I don’t need you-”

“Pity.”

_What?_ “…I just need your brain. Everything you can tell me about Rex, this compound, and how to get around it. Find some place to lay low and I’ll reach you via CODEC.”

“Fine, fine. No need to worry about me. I’ve got this.” David reached up to his pocket and activated some kind of switch. In an instant, he’d all but vanished, only a shimmering outline giving any indication of where he was sitting. “Neat little trick huh? Comes in handy when… heh… well anyway…I’ll… mm… have your back.”

“Alright,” Hal agreed. “But just in case, I’m going to contact Meryl, ask her to keep an eye out for you as well.”

“The female soldier?” David switched off the cloaking device, obviously intrigued.

“You know her? I’ve only spoken to her via CODEC, what does she look like?”

A small grin crossed David’s features. “Well, she’s wearing the same uniform as the rest of them but… you can tell.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“She’s got a real… distinctive way of walking. The way she sort of…” He slowly waved a hand in the air.

Hal shook his head. “Not following.”

“Her ass, man. Do I have to spell everything out for you? Got a damn fine ass. Forgets to strut like the rest of those idiots, shows it off. Not that I’m complaining.”

Hal coughed. “R-right.”

“You’re gonna have to make contact with her somewhere you know she’s gonna be alone. Heh, lucky you, right?” He pulled himself out of his seat with a faint grunt.

“You’re… not in any pain are you?” Hal said as he stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What?” David looked back at him with surprise, but couldn’t keep himself from running his tongue over his lips, just once.

The sudden deaths of the ArmsTech President and DARPA chief had left Hal wary. “Feeling okay?”

“You hittin’ on me, pal?”

“N-no, of course not,” Hal withdrew his hand quickly. “Just… glad you’re okay.”

“Shame.”

“I’m just a little worried,” he admitted. “Everyone else I’ve met has died.”

“Oh yeah? Heart attack after seein’ you pop up in that little suit of yours?”

“I really should be on my way, Doctor…” Hal turned to leave.

“Call me Snake.”

“Snake?”

“Yeah. I like the sound of that. Never had a code name before but this seems like the time for it. And that’s a solid one, isn’t it? And…” a grin crossed his face as he sucked at his teeth, “like the way it sounds, coming from you.”

“R-right. Snake, then.”

“You call me if you need to know anything about Rex or the base, alright? And if you need anything…well, I’ve got the stealth cammo. So let me know if you ever, ah… need a hand. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on… I mean out for you.” With that, the doctor switched on his stealth camouflage again, before slipping out the door.

As for Otacon, he took a moment to stretch and prepare for the next leg of his mission, hoping finding Meryl would be as easy as David had made it sound.  He just had to stay focused, keep a clear head.

Which would be a lot easier if he could shake the sudden and nagging feeling he was being watched.


	10. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on some NSFW artwork from snottycon seen here: http://snottycon.tumblr.com/post/140826122853/uuuuummm-i-think-abt-psycho-mantis-mind-control-on
> 
> **THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW**

“ _It stands for Otaku Convention._ What were you thinking?” Hal dragged his hands down his face, groaning as he made his way down the hall. “Should have gone with ‘Otaku Complex’ at least that _sort_ of makes sense.” **  
**

He ambled down the cold hallway, reviewing a mental map of the compound as he tried to figure out the best location to hide from Liquid and the rest of his men. A glimmer of reflected light, caught on the corner of a restroom sign caught his eye and he wondered faintly if Snake had taken his meaning from before and ended up reaching Meryl. He hadn’t been pressed for further information, so he assumed his meaning had been clear enough.

They were probably together now, the two of them. For some reason the thought made him feel isolated, an unexpected reminder that no one was searching or waiting for him.

“Just stay out of the way, stay quiet. You’re good at that, aren’t you Hal?”

He almost didn’t hear it.

Hal was turning a corner, so lost in thought he nearly ran into the man spread out on the floor. It was only due to his stealth camouflage that he remained unnoticed. Well, that and the fact that said man was otherwise occupied.

At first he thought Snake had been wounded. Genome soldiers were still patrolling the halls and one false move would have meant a bullet right through the man’s chest ending his entire mission in failure. And yet, despite the strained groan, Hal saw no trace of blood.

He managed to cover the gasp with his hand, eyes wide as he stood silently taking in the sight of Snake busy at the desperate heat between his legs.

Hal struggled not to run, shout, not to breathe or exist at all even though the blood thundering in his ears was surely loud enough to alert every genome soldier on the island to his presence.

Snake didn’t seem to notice.

With his head thrown back, eyes half lidded Snake he let out another strangled moan that bore more resemblance to a cry than anything. He mumbled words only half formed, half heard as a gloved hand made it’s way along his length, eliciting only further moans.

_What is he doing? Isn’t he in the middle of a mission? There’s no time for this kind of thing!_

Yet still, Otacon said nothing.

Instead he stood resolutely still, hanging frozen in the moment, hands tensing at his sides as he took in the sight of him. Cheeks flushed. Back arched against the wall. Strands of dark hair escaping the confines of the bandana wrapped tightly around his forehead. Snake sucked in a sharp breath as he sped up ever so slightly… was he teasing himself? His body rocked forward once or twice as he was overrun by the sensation, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

Hal took a step back and began to turn with excruciating care, only now risking a single, silent breath. He had to leave before Snake finished, before he regained his senses and realized there was anyone there. He’d managed only a single step more though before Snake’s shoulders bucked and a muffled growl came from his throat. His head lolled to the side, and for an instant Hal thought he’d been found out- those blue eyes looking straight at him albeit clouded and distant.

Yet as Snake failed to respond for several seconds and Hal took his chance to back away, retreat back around the corner. And it was only then that he allowed himself to truly breathe again.

Had that actually just happened? He’d been mere feet away from the man and yet he still couldn’t believe his own eyes. Uncertainty swirled around him like a cloak, sending him only further down his path of seclusion. In fact Hal was sure of only one thing at this point.

When he met Snake again, he would have questions.


	11. Convention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My MGSeceret Santa Gift for 140-48, a short story based on their Fusions AU   
> For more info on the MGS Fusions, check out http://mgsfusions.tumblr.com/

“You’ve got to be joking!”

“Look at my face Doc, does it look like I’m joking?”

Hal took a step back from the man who had only just prevented him from getting sliced in half by what could only be called a ‘rogue cyborg ninja’. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a man so prone to seriousness as Snake.

To be honest, he’d never seen anyone like Snake, period.

_…Well maybe one person._ He squinted.

“But I’m no soldier, Snake.” He waved both hands in dismissal. “Don’t you have to undergo training for that sort of thing? I- I’ll just… it’ll be a mess, believe me.”

The soldier sighed, a hint of a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “Of course. But that doesn’t mean…” He ran a slow hand over his mouth and jaw. Perhaps it had been a mistake to suggest but his instincts told him this was the best chance either of them had of making it through the night.

“Doc, you know this compound better than anyone and I’m going to need your help if I have any chance of stopping these terrorists from hijacking that two ton, walking death machine of yours. If I let you go wandering around on that leg of yours you are going to get yourself killed.”

He closed the space between them, placing a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down just far enough to make direct eye contact. “When I was a rookie, I got myself into a number of tight spots. More than once, I was dead sure I wouldn’t make it out alive. One time, I was even more sure than that. Almost plain dead.”

Hal stared back at him confusedly. What did any of this have to do with him?

“Got stuck in a foxhole, surrounded, outgunned. Wasn’t about to give up, but, I knew the odds weren’t in my favor. Then I realized, I wasn’t the only one hiding in the dark.” Snake leaned back against the nearest wall, crossing his arms, and allowed his eyes to leave the doctor’s face at last, instead scanning the room.

“Ran into another agent by the name of F-” his paused for a moment, his body tense as he glanced out the door. “Frank Jaeger. We barely knew each other, had only ever communicated via radio transmission but…” he nodded. “He was one of the best, and we had a job to do.”

He stepped away from the wall and back towards Hal, who was still looking incredibly unsure about the whole thing.

“It wasn’t easy, and we had plenty of false starts, but my point is- if it hadn’t been for GreySnake, neither of us would have made it out of there alive.”

  
  


“W-wouldn’t this go better with someone like Frank then?” Hal’s fingertips grazed the hem of his sleeves as he tugged on them slightly, averting his gaze. “Someone who’s trained to fight.”

“Probably,” Snake replied quickly. “But he… he’s not here. You are. You and that stealth cammo of yours.”

“Ah, so that’s it then.” Hal’s shoulders sagged as realization dawned on him.  He would be slightly less of a liability as a fusion than running around on his own, and that’s all there was to it.

“I- I won’t kill anyone.”

The low rumble returned as Snake looked back at the man, coming to a decision. “That’s going to make it harder, you realize.

“I- I know but… I get a say in this too, don’t I? Isn’t that the whole point? We’ll just… have to find a way.”

Snake sighed, hoping this would end up being worth all the trouble in the end. And there was still one more hurdle they had to clear. He gave the engineer a quick once over, already knowing the answer to his question before he asked it.

“Don’t suppose you took any dance classes at that university of yours?”

“Dance… no, why? What does that have to do with anything?” Hal took a step back, warily eyeing Snake. “You’re acting strange…”

An impatient grumble came from Snake as he crossed his arms, searching for the briefest explanation. “Fusing is all about a cooperative connection, the two parties have to be in synch, and the better coordinated they are, the more successful the process,  and the more useful the resulting fusion will be.” He sighed as though all of this should be self-evident. “There’s a number of different methods, but a set of coordinated movements, bringing the two individuals into a set pattern is what helps trigger the fusion. So. Do you dance, doctor?”

“…Err… no.” Hal repeated. Not even without the sprained ankle. “I mean, I could try to-”

  
“No time to teach you, we’ll just have to hope for the best.” Snake closed the distance between them, reaching out to grab the man by the lapels of his bulky hoodie. “Don’t weigh much, do you.”

“Sorry?”

“Nevermind, not important,” Snake said, somehow amused despite himself. “Hold on tight, this might be rough.”

He held on tightly while taking an experimental step to the side, then the other as Hal simply hung there in the air, dumbfounded. A step forward, back, still holding him, before going for broke and moving in a circle. Then another.

And there it was.

_We did it?_

_Yeah._

_I feel different._

_That’s the idea._

“Alright. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

His voice was a soothing baritone, grounded, yet inquisitive. It was difficult to see his reflection with nothing better than the blank screen of one of the terminals, but…

“Hey, this isn’t too bad. Could have gone a lot worse, honestly.”

Four eyes peered back from behind a pair of tinted safety goggles, taking in features that were familiar and yet altogether new.

 

“No time to admire the scenery. Still got a job to do. The Colonel’s instructions were to meet up with a ‘Meryl’.” His eyes closed and silence fell over the room as memories and suggestions bubbled to the surface, and without a word, he slipped from the room, out into the hall.

—

“Snake?” The stall door opened to reveal a young red-headed woman, aiming a rifle at his chest. “No- not Snake.” Her eyes narrowed as she took a step forward, keeping her weapon level.

“You’re a fusion,” she said, a hint of accusation in her tone.

“Yeah. Otasune.”

_Ota…?_

_Otacon._

_What?_

_It stands for… Otaku Convention._

“So… Snake?” She asked again.

“In here, Meryl,” he tapped a six-fingered hand to his chest. “But we need the doctor’s help so tell me what you know, so we can get going.”

She raised an eyebrow, sceptical at first, but slowly lowered her gun. “Alright then. But I’m coming too.”

—

“You haven’t even seen my true power yet,” cackled the telepath, hovering eerily over Meryl’s fallen body. “I can read your every thought, you’re an open book to me… Otasune.” His body seemed to shimmer for a moment in a manner similar to that of the stealth cammo, yet somehow smoother, more organically. Clearly, mindreading was not the only of Mantis’ powers.

“You’re overly cautious, aren’t you. Skilled, but nervous. And such… hesitation to act, because you know if you take a shot, your aim will be true.” Another laugh.

“How delightful.”

Otasune reached into his belt pouch, procuring a stun grenade, cursing the lack of anything stronger in his arsenal. But there wasn’t even time to use it before Mantis unleashed a telekinetic attack, sending a flurry of ornate furniture and decorative paperweights flying through the air. After the leg of an armchair smashed into his head and knocked the fusion to the floor, he was forced to take cover behind one of the room’s larger desks.

_This isn’t working._

_Great input. Glad I kept you around this long._

_He knows what to expect._

_He’s a **psychic** , Otacon._

_No, I mean- he knows what to expect from **you.**_

_What are you saying?_

_Maybe… it would be better to…swap control._

_What does that mean?_

_Let me try handling it my way._

_And what exactly is ‘your way’?_

_I… don’t know, but give me a chance to figure it out._

He pulled himself up from behind the desk to see Mantis hovering, waiting. “Well hello there. You didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?” One wave of an arm and he was sent flying across the room, ramming into a heavy marble pedestal in the corner.

_Now would be a good time to ‘figure it out’, Otacon._

_I know, I know, just…_

As one pair of eyes shot back to Mantis, resolutely trailing his irregular patterns in the air, a second, less sure set wandered upwards, studied the heavy statue that had just broken their fall. It was peculiar, there was no logical reason for something like this to be here, but it was a chance that had to be taken.

_I have a plan._

It might not have been the best laid plan, perhaps “plan” was too grand of a word for what was no more than a desperate set of actions based on nothing more than a hunch, but immediately, Otasune had leapt from his spot on the floor, throwing a stun grenade towards Mantis to buy enough time to make it to the second statue.

Six-fingered hands made quick work of the tightly knotted strips of fabric covering the bust’s face, and as they dropped an audible hiss could be heard, muffled and distorted by Mantis’ mask. So… they were on the right track then.

Another grenade, another dodge and roll, another narrow avoidance of Mantis’ attack and the third statue was revealed as well.

_What the… why are these even  here?_

_I don’t know, but I’m not going to question it. Besides, I think it’s working._

_What…?_

“No…NO! How…. DARE YOU!”

Otasune turned to face Mantis, who appeared, more than anything, to be hanging unsteadily just above the ground. There was something more chaotic, less rehearsed and even about his movements, and it was only with a great deal of exertion that he managed to move the contents of the room to any noticeable degree.

_What happe-_

_It hurts, doesn’t it?_

_What? What are you talking about?_

_You can be brilliant, and skilled but that doesn’t change the fact…_

_…Why are you telling me this?_

_I wasn’t talking to you._

“You won’t, I won’t let you! Do you realize who I am? What I can do?”

_Yes of course, and that just makes it worse, doesn’t it. To have such power, and still be at the mercy of a frail and imperfect body._

“You will stop this now!”

_And every time you see yourself, you’re reminded of that fact, but it doesn’t even make sense, because that’s not you. The real you is-_

“I SAID ENOUGH!!!”

An unseen wave of force threw Otasune back, tossed Meryl across the floor, even shunted the heavy desk and chairs onto their sides. The blast of psionic energy so strong that even the thick glass of his protective goggles did not escape unscathed. By the time Otasune opened his eyes, Mantis was gone.

“Meryl…” he croaked, crawling deftly to where she’d been cast on the ground. Her breathing  was soft, but regular, pulse steady.

_What the hell was that?_

_I..just thought that…_

_Inviting Mantis into this brain, no questions asked was your idea of a plan?_

_It worked, didn’t it?_

_This was a mistake._

And just like that, the two of them were side by side, Snake still holding onto Meryl who was slowly coming to. He cast only a cursory glance to the retreating form of the man beside him, Hal rising unsteadily on his feet to go re-examine one of the statues.

“…Snake?”

“Meryl.” He growled in low tones, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Can you get up? We’ve got to make it to the underground holding area where they’re keeping Metal Gear.” He pulled her into a seated position, giving her time to regain her senses.

She stared up at him, sight still slightly blurry, curiosity plain on her face. “You’re not fused anymore.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Not sure it was a good idea, in the end. The three of us will just have to make our way there as we are.”

“Three of us?” She repeated.

“Yeah, you, me, and…” He turned his head to the corner of the room and found it empty. The only clue regarding the doctor’s departure was the recently shifted bookshelf, revealing a heretofore hidden passageway. _Dammit_.

“…You and me.” Snake corrected himself.

And as for the doctor, well- he’d be on his own.


	12. A Long Semester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got the following prompt in my askbox from creamhearts: 
> 
> "dave has to go to the TA to get help with his computer class. hal is the TA and has been crushing on him since dave took a lit class with him - the whole time hal is so flustered to be helping him and keeps making little mistakes while trying to help dave - but dave doesnt even notice and just focuses on how smart and cute hal is im out fkkgskg"

Sorry this took me so long, I kept getting distracted.

“Mister… uh… Emmerich?”

David glanced down at paper in his hand, snatched from the printer on his way out the door as he ran to make it to the listed office hours. Assuming he’d read the schedule correctly, the teaching assistant for his class should be here now.

“Uh…what? Oh!” The bespeckled young man sitting at a desk at the far end of the empty lab practically jumped out of his seat. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he closed a number of windows on his screen before he made his way around to the row of computers. “S-sorry! I… uh… nobody ever comes to these things.”

“Sure.” David took a look around the lab and sure enough, every seat was empty, monitors all cheerfully bouncing the school’s logo across field of white. “So, listen. Mister-”

“Please, call me Hal. I’m a student just like you, y’know.”

“…Alright. Hal.” He cleared his throat and hoisted the bag from his shoulder. “I’m in Professor Hastings’ Comp Sci 101?”

“Right, Tuesdays and Thursdays in the morning,” Hal recited without thinking. “You need a hand with something? What seems to be the trouble?”

He pulled out the chair of the nearest computer and offered it to David while he perched nearby on top of the table, and wondered vaguely if the swinging of his legs was coming off as casual or childish. He stilled.

“Well it’s… everything really. I don’t really have the… this isn’t exactly my area,” he admitted.

Hal leaned forward, hands on his knees. “You’re an English major, right?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Oh…” Hal looked away for just a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “We had a class together last semester. You probably don’t remember. World Lit? You ah… always made some really good points during the lecture, I could tell you were in your element.”

Dave’s brow furrowed as he did his best to try and remember. If he tried he could just about imagine… yeah. He could sort of make it out now, these  round frames sitting somewhere in one of the back corners. “Thanks. Sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

 _It’s probably for the best._ Hal thought. _No sense in him noticing me… noticing._

“It’s no big deal. Anyways, let’s get to it. First test is in a week, huh? Glad you didn’t wait til the night before.” He grinned, perhaps just a little too broadly as David started opening his textbook to the chapter they’d been over that day. “Well, luckily Python isn’t too difficult. I should have you set up and on your way in no time.”

“No time” ended up meaning several hours, Hal finding himself constantly misspeaking, having to go back and correct himself. He started to feel awful, but was determined to do his job, even after his scheduled hours were over. While Dave excused himself to go grab a drink Hal did his best to compose himself.

_He didn’t even notice you were in his class. And he was really focused on his coursework. He clearly had no time or interest in the fact that you were sitting two rows behind him doing your damnedest to stop staring._

“Everything alright?”

Hal looked up to see a can of soda just a few inches from his face, David gesturing for him to take it.

“Oh… yes. Thanks.” He opened the can and took a drink, feeling a little better already. “So. English. I assume this is for a requirement but don’t most of the Art Sci kids go for Dino Bio?”

“Am I that bad at this?”

“Sorry, that was rude of me.” A few minutes into a proper conversation and he was already making a fool of himself. “Just, well you see how empty it is in here. Most of the people in this class are planning on going on to one of the engineering programs, or are testing it out before they commit. It’s not uncommon for them to know a lot of this already, just show up on test days.”

There was a faint grunt of understanding. “Oh. I was wondering if there were just a lot of drop outs. Was actually starting to feel better about not being able to keep up.” Dave shook his head as he opened his own can.

“You’re right. I uh, ended up with some schedule conflicts that made it impossible for me to take the… ‘beaten path’. If I wanted to stay on track for graduation I had to find an alternative and… I mean I use computers to write and stuff. E-mails. I didn’t think it would be so… technical.”

Hal laughed briefly at that. “That might have been a miscalculation on your part. But um. We’ll get there. I just wish I wasn’t so… I mean, I’m good at this, I swear. I’m just a little distracted right now.”

“Oh yeah?” David took his seat again, scooting back up to the table. “Any particular reason?”

_Oh. He could not do this. It was too much to ask._

“M-maybe… “ He swallowed hard, running his tongue over his lips in a swift motion. “Y’know maybe I’m not the best person to work with you on this. I could ask one of the other TA’s to-”

“Hal. What the hell? Sit back down and help me with this.”

David reached out and pulled gently at the hem of Hal’s hoodie, stopping him from taking off.

It would be better to just… be honest, wouldn’t it? Then David would understand, they could make different arrangements and both move on with their lives and it wouldn’t have to be awkward unless their eyes accidentally met in the lecture hall. That was bearable. He could do that.

“L-like I said. I’m good at this. Very good but I… normally work alone? It’s just easier to concentrate and I don’t run the risk of being preoccupied because…” he trailed off, unsure if he had the guts to continue.

The silence lingered as David stared at him, uncomprehending.

“…look your grades are on the line. It’d be bad if I didn’t give you the help you needed because I was spending the whole time wondering what it would be like if you kissed me. So. You know. How about… instead of that I just, work it out with one of the other assistants so they can give you competent help and get you the grade you need and you never have to see me again?”

David’s hand dropped down to his side.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

“Sorry.”

“Well,” David thought for a moment. “Let’s do that then.”

A defeated sigh came from Hal as he hung his head, feeling absolutely worthless as a teacher, a programmer, a human being. “Yeah. Look, I’ll talk to Andie. She’s great and I know her schedule should work out so-”

“No,” Dave said briskly. “The other thing.”

Hal’s heart leapt into his throat. Or had it dropped down to his stomach? Was it possible for both to happen at the same time? Either way he didn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Ha- that’s um, funny. Look, I’m sorry. I’ll give her a call tonight, you’ll like her, she’s nice.”

“Hal, wait.”

There was something warm and rough on his wrist. He was surprised to look down and see David’s fingers holding him tightly.

“At the very least, let’s see if it clears your head.”

He stood, pushing the chair behind him gently with his foot and placed both his hands on Hal’s shoulders. Slowly, like he was trying to avoid scaring a small animal, he leaned forward until his lips were mere inches away from Hal’s.

Hal’s mind raced with questions and assumptions. He had no idea why David might be reacting this way to his words, whether it was just a whim or a joke or whether he would soon find himself with a black eye and thrown against the floor. But he found he didn’t care. Stretching just a little, he closed the space between them, kissing Dave with the full force of the needful hunger that had been growing within him for months.

It wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined it. David seemed to have a habit for smoking he hadn’t picked up on, and his lips were softer than he’d expected, and surprisingly yielded to his silent pleas for more.  Hal allowed himself to enjoy every moment of it, nipping gently at David’s bottom lip and refusing to stifle a moan when he felt his tongue brush against his own.

He’d never been kissed like this, and he could feel himself getting drawn into it, wanting more, wanting to grasp at David’s chest, tangle his fingers in his hair, pull him closer and just…

And then it was over.

David pulled away, a strange look in his eyes that gave Hal the faintest glimmer of hope.

“So. Uh. We good then?”

It took a few seconds for Hal to remember how to speak, and that questions were generally in need of an answer.

“Y-yeah. We’re good.”

“And you’re gonna keep on helping me out here?” David asked, taking his seat again.

Confused, but not displeased, Hal nodded. “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

“Good.” Dave turned back to the screen, but shot him a sideways grin. “Cause I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be a long semester.”


	13. In the Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Meme Request for MetalZekeSolid - Otasune/Author's Choice

It was quiet. Too quiet.

And of course as soon as the thought crossed Hal’s mind he winced at the cliche. But the truth remained that it had been several hours since he’d so much as heard a door open or close. Dave was typically good about telling him when he was going out, even for a smoke.

He slipped his fingers under his glasses to rub at his eyes and squinted at the clock in the corner of his screen. 2:09 a.m. Late, but again, Dave was in the habit of at least making a cursory announcement when going to bed. So… where was he now, then?

Hal pulled himself from his chair with no small amount of effort. He still had about half of the coding to finish on this particular program, assuming nothing went wrong, but a break wouldn’t hurt. The lingering strain that ran the full length of his back seemed to agree.

“Dave?” He called out from within the room that had become his workspace in the small apartment. Still no answer. It wasn’t unthinkable that the man had simply gone to bed but Hal couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

He padded out into the hallway, calling out once more.

“Dave, you awake?”

A few seconds later and Hal found him, sitting stone still on the sofa, jaw set as he stared in the direction of the television. Not at the television and certainly not at the screen, Hal noted, unless Dave had become deeply invested in the infomercial promising “brighter, more radiant skin”.

“Hey, you’re uh, still up, huh? Gotta be something better than this on, don’t ya think?”

His questions lingered in the air for a moment before being swallowed by the same silence that had filled the apartment for hours. Immediately, Hal began to recount the events of the day in his head. Had he said something wrong without realizing it? Forgotten to do something he’d promised?

He mumbled some manner of excuse and fled to the kitchen, muscle memory taking over and guiding him through the preparation of a cup of instant coffee. Honestly he couldn’t figure out what he might have done to upset the man, having spent the majority of his waking hours at work. A tiny spark of annoyance flickered inside of him. Was his work not necessary? Appreciated? Had Dave actually managed to find something about all of it that had upset him to the point that he was actually ignoring Hal, giving him the silent treatment as though they were some kind of high school couple engaged in a trivial spat?

Hal exhaled harshly as he stirred his cup, hitting the sides a bit harder than strictly necessary but uncaring about the racket he was making. He hoped he was bothering Dave. Maybe he’d earn himself a lecture about drinking caffeine so late at night and the two of them could really get into it. Maybe it would turn into an argument, or a fight even, and he’d end up saying something really nasty and one of them would storm off and slam a door, leaving the other to spend the night on the sofa, or in Hal’s case, at his desk.

Already fired up to have it out Hal stormed back into the living room with his cup, heedless of the hot coffee spilling over his fingers and onto the floor.

“David!”

It was so slow- slow enough that it took Hal to perceive the change at all, when Dave finally turned his head to look at him.

There were no tears; Hal had only ever seen the man cry on scant few occasions. But there was an emptiness, sad and lingering.

And silent.

Hal opened his mouth to speak, but closed it soon after. They’d never talked about this sort of thing before but what was there to say, really? He was familiar enough to know that there was no cause and worse yet- no real solution. Bringing words into it would probably just end up making it worse. The best he could do was to simply… wait.

The code waiting in his room. The dishes in the sink. The quickly cooling pool of coffee on the floor. They could all wait.

Without another word, Hal took his seat next to Dave and thought if he concentrated, he could just about make out the faintest pressure of his body leaning against his own. He took a sip of his coffee and kept his eyes straight ahead, mentally preparing for a night of self-sharpening knives and hair care solutions, enthusiastic voices on the television barely audible over the sound of Dave’s deep breathing.

It was quiet.

But not too quiet.


	14. Wanna Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creamhearts gave me "Wanna dance" and Otasune

 

8:35 p.m. He was getting better at closing up.

 

The first few weeks Hal was lucky to get out by 9:30 or 10 some weekends. He wouldn’t have thought the same people who spent quite so much money on bead and ribbon storage cases could leave such a disaster in their wake but he soon learned that the housewives who were so passionate about scrapbooking were also tired of cleaning up messes including their own.

 

Thankfully, it had been a quiet day and before long he’d sorted out the last of the fabric remnants, straightened out the stock of picture frames and tidied up the shelves of model kits that were his main responsibility. Hal checked his watch again and, yes- he could about make it, if he hurried.

 

He clocked out and grabbed his bag, sprinting out of the store with only a cursory nod towards the night manager on duty and in less than a minute had made his way through the sliding doors that had been taunting him ever since he started this job. If he was entirely honest, the arcade had definitely influenced his decision to take the position here as opposed to say, becoming a cashier at the pet store.

 

The night shifts had however stood in his way, keeping him busy until long after the blinking lights had gone dark. Tonight, however he was finally able to make it over and indulge in a little bit of fun. His eyes darted around as he tried to make a quick decision and it didn’t take long for something to catch his eye.

 

The cabinet for Virtual On was a rare sight, and one instantly recognizable to him. He lost no time in taking a seat and no sooner had he placed his hands on the controls than he found himself immersed in the illusion of being an actual mech pilot. He’d already selected his robot and started a round when a flashing light on the screen interrupted the bout.

 

A CHALLENGER IS APPROACHING

 

Hal shot a sideways glance through the tinted plastic and could just about see the form of his opponent. Dark hair, probably taller than he was from the way he’d slouched in the seat, but not much else to go on. He quickly turned his gaze back to the screen and smiled as the countdown started again. He smiled and whispered under his breath.

 

“Wanna dance?”

 

It had been a while since he’d last had the chance to play this particular game, but he’d retained most of his skills though the other player was no novice himself. The machine was set to a generous best-out-of-nine and he found the two of them to be evenly matched. Luckily for his pride, he managed to eke out a narrow victory in the final round. But before he could say anything to the other player, he’d hopped out of the machine and vanished.

 

Hal stretched his arms and neck as he continued looking around. He thought about trying the skeeball machines out next. There was a time when he’d considered starting a team for one of the leagues he sometimes saw advertised. He’d had brief mental images of five or six teammates wearing orange and black shirts with their names emblazoned on the back. “Dragon Ball Skee”. Surely anyone who would agree to such a name would be the sort of person he’d end up getting along with. It was a pity he’d never managed to get a group together.

 

Still, he’d practiced anyway. Just in case.

 

A few games in and with a tidy string of tickets, he hardly noticed when the machine at the end of the line lit up until the lights above started flashing. A new high score.

 

Turning his head he saw a vaguely familiar profile. The guy from earlier, still keeping his focus on the task at hand, sinking balls into their targets with a practiced ease. Hal was torn between trying to pick up a few tips and just… staring.

 

Of course as soon as he realized what he was doing he turned back to his game, forcing himself not to look back until he was sure the stranger had gone. And soon enough, he had. But he’d left a little something behind.

 

Pulling the tickets from the dispenser with a satisfying rip, Hal began scanning the rows of machines again. Absently, he folded them into a thick zigzagged ribbon which he clutched tightly until he saw him again.

 

He was at an older machine, pulling tokens out of his pocket and resting them on the flat of the cabinet which was larger than average, due to the need to accommodate six players.

 

Hal quickly found a place on the far side of the machine, dropping several tokens into the slot and emptying his pockets onto the machine as well. He was pretty good at fighting games. Okay at skeeball. But 90’s arcade side-scrollers…

 

Well, everyone had their gifts.

 

He pushed his glasses a little higher on the bridge of his nose as the familiar dramatic monologue began. Soon he was more than a little overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia as the two of them started battling mutant-seeking robots and clone armies.

 

“I’ve got the drones on the left, can you take out the robot arms?”

 

“Bunch of killer bees are about to show up on the left.”

 

“WELCOME TO DIE!”

 

Hal couldn’t help but laugh when the two of them yelled out in unison. The slight smile on his partner’s face made it seem like he was enjoying himself as well. It wasn’t long before they were busy making plans of attack, furiously dropping more money into a machine from a pile that had formed from the tokens neither of them had bothered to keep track of.

 

In no time at all the final boss was defeated, game credits started rolling and he assumed the stranger would slip away again but… oh.

 

Hal had forgotten the game was set to repeat. But surely he wasn’t up for simply repeating the same levels over again.

 

And yet- there he was, eyes still on the screen, fingers hovering just above the buttons, ready to unleash another ‘special mutant attack’ on the unsuspecting Sentinels.

 

They made it about halfway through a second run before the tokens were gone and Hal was gratified to see they’d both made the leader board. He’d forgotten for a moment that his whole goal was to see if he might beat out this strange, silent gamer with the striking profile but as he input his name- conveniently short enough to fit on the average high score list, he noted that he had in fact come out on top of SNK.

 

_Sam? Steve, maybe?_

 

“Hey it uh, looks like I’ve won this one then.”

 

“Thought we were a team.”

 

Hal laughed nervously. “Y-yeah. Right. Of course. Fighting for mutants across the world.” He exhaled quickly and looked briefly around them. “Is it uh, always this quiet on weeknights?”

 

“Arcade’s been closed for half an hour.”

 

Hal felt a sudden pang of guilt overpowered only by his genuine confusion. He quickly leaned down to grab the straps of his bag, hoisting it over his shoulder.

 

“Oh… oh my god, I’m so sorry. I had no- you… you should have kicked me out ages ago! I’m really, incredibly sorry about this, S…” his eyes darted back to the screen.

 

It took a moment for the good-natured arcade employee to catch on, but when he did the low rumble of laughter he did made Hal turn positively pink.

 

“Snake,” he started with a quick toss of his head, “is just an old nickname. I’m David.”

 

“H-Hal,” he stammered.

David smiled back in a way that almost put Hal at ease. “Nice to meet you Hal. You should come by more often. When we’re not about to close, that is.”

 

“Hey, look I’m really sorry about that.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave said with a soft pat on his back. “I had fun.”

 

“Yeah? M-me too.”

  
“Besides. Makes it easier to ask you out for a drink after.”


	15. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tinderet and alloattorney gave me "What are you, jealous?"  
> I altered it a little to fit the idea a bit more. ^_^7

There were few hard and fast rules between the two of them. Dave would hesitate to call them “rules” at all really, they were just some basic considerations they’d wordlessly agreed upon to make cohabitation a little simpler.

 

The split the chores evenly, taking turns at the cooking and cleaning.

 

Despite his obvious dislike for it, Hal didn’t mention Dave’s smoking. Dave made a point to go outside or at least to a window when he felt the need.

 

And should their living arrangement permit it, and Hal sequestered himself behind a closed door- Dave knew never to interrupt.

 

But it had been days. 

 

Perhaps that was a slight exaggeration. The man had emerged once or twice to grab a soda from the rattling refrigerator, and again some hours later to use the restroom. But he’d done so without a word of acknowledgement to Dave, ignoring the noodles and sauce he’d left covered on the counter, simply emerging and retreating once again never giving so much as a nod.

 

And it was starting to piss Dave off.

 

At first he thought he could ignore it. It would be the mature, rational thing to do, respectful of their arrangement, the boundaries they had established. 

 

And yet…

 

As it drew closer to the end of the third day, Dave found he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed some explanation of what the hell Hal was working on. After all, if it was this all-consuming, it must be important and likely relevant to him. If this was the start of some new mission they were meant to undertake, then shouldn’t he be preparing? It was… irresponsible of Hal not to clue him in.

 

A knock on the door yielded no answer. A second seemed to rouse Hal from whatever he was doing.

 

“Y-yeah. Just a second. A-almost done!”

 

Dave grumbled. Tired of waiting he turned the handle perhaps with a little more force than was called for and shoved the door open.

 

“D-Dave!” Hal yelped, hand flying out past the keyboard and onto the mouse, frantically clicking and bringing the stream of video to a halt.

 

“Hal. It’s been three days. What the hell are you… what is  _ that _ ?”

 

Hal’s eyes darted from the screen back up to Dave. “O---oh. Well uh, it’s...the latest season of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure just came out. And … sort of realized I hadn’t… y’know… for the backstory. Started at the beginning. Turns out there’s a hell of a lot of it and…” He blinked wearily as he took in the light from the hallway. “Three days?”

 

Another grumble. Dave rubbed a hand over his face though it did nothing to displace the look of annoyance.

 

“Hal. Take a fucking break. And a shower for that matter. Eat some real food and sleep and pull yourself away from…” He pointed a finger at the monitor on which an impossibly muscled man was striking a highly improbable pose that only served to accentuate his over the top phsyique. “From whatever _ that _ is.”

 

“Y-yeah. You’re right. Time just… got away from me. You know how it is.” He pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, a bit too slowly and unsteadily for David’s taste but it was a start.

 

Dave said nothing else, but nodded and grunted assent. 

 

Sighing, Hal rubbed at his eyes and stretched, noticing the way Dave’s glare remained keenly trained on the screen. 

 

“Dave?”

 

“What?” 

 

He hadn’t meant to snap like that.

 

“You… you’re not… jealous, are you?”

 

Dave turned abruptly to stand in the doorway, blocking the yellow light in the form of a stark silhouette.

  
“Come and eat, Hal.”


	16. Secret Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked for a stripper AU. This is what I managed.

“I know you.”

 

Hal felt his shoulders tense as his grip on the plastic cup in his hand tightened just enough to make it crinkle. Apparently the disused picnic table tucked behind the tool shed wasn’t secret enough for him to avoid detection. He turned slowly, a weak smile struggling to cross his face. The voice he heard was low, gruff, and unfamiliar. But he did in fact recognize the man.

 

“Y-you do?” He hadn’t set out to be noticed that night, had done his best to keep quiet in the corner as he waited for it to be over so he could forget the whole thing. The last thing Hal was expecting was a reminder to walk up to him at a child’s birthday party and say “Hello”.

 

“We don’t get a lot of guys at the club. Well not none, but the ones who come in are usually at least looking at the stage.”

 

“I uh… wasn’t there b-by choice,” Hal stammered. “My mom… step-mom… her… friend? She’s getting married. Or something. And I h-have my license now and they needed a-”

 

“Relax, man. I get it. It was pretty obvious when I saw you with them when they finally started to leave. Got kinda rowdy. Saw one of them getting a little, heh… handsy with you.” The man shot him a sideways smile with a raised eyebrow but Hal didn’t seem to return it.

 

“N-no. She… was just… Julie was pretty drunk.” He stared down into the soda he was holding, watching tiny bubbles rise to its surface. “Uh… you, want a drink? It’s got to be hot in that thing.”

 

The man nodded, grateful expression clear on his face. “Please. This suit is mostly rubber and the sun is pretty bad today. But we’re uh, not allowed to take anything to drink unless it’s offered. And just water.”

 

Hal dug through a nearby cooler until he found a bottle and handed it over. “That’s pretty strict. I kinda thought Batman got to make his own rules.”

 

There was a gentle snort of laughter. “He probably does. But I bet he also doesn’t have to work kid’s parties to pay the rent.”

 

Hal fidgeted in his seat, not sure what to say to that. It wasn’t unusual for him to feel uncomfortable. At school, at the club, surrounded by his sister’s shouting friends and their parents.

 

It was funny that he should feel at ease talking to this stranger who he’d already seen mostly naked out of the corner of his eye.

 

“So… the other thing. Is that like your secret identity?”

 

“Secret…?” Another laugh. “Nah, kid. I’ve just got bills to pay and not a lot to offer besides looking good in a fancy getup. Or out of it, come to that.” He gave Hal a wink that sent a heat rushing to his cheeks. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it while we’re in mixed company.”

 

“Of- of course.” Hal stared back down at his drink but stole a sideways glance before venturing to speak again. “Has it ever um, come up before? You getting recognized?”

 

“Maybe once or twice, but it’s always someone’s mom who’d rather not admit what she was up to last Saturday night. Plus I’m usually wearing a mask. Unless there’s a princess that needs backup for a big group or something.”

 

“And then you’re a prince? With like… tights and stuff?”

 

“Hey, you know I can pull off a pair of tights,” he winked. “Literally, most nights.”

 

Hal coughed loudly, sending droplets of soda flying to the ground.

 

“Easy there, buddy.” The hand on his back was surprisingly soft and reassuring. “You’re kind of a shy guy, aren’t you?”

 

“S-sorry.”

 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He stood and started to adjust the bits of his costume that had settled during the break. “S’kinda cute, actually. Don’t often meet anyone who’s-”

 

“Bats. You’re back on. Cake time.”

 

“Hup. Duty calls.”

 

“Busy life of a superhero.” Hal smiled, a bit more conviction behind it this time. “Good luck out there, uh… Bruce.”

 

“Dave.” He corrected, pulling his cowl back on. “And thanks. How do I look?”

 

“Good,” Hal nodded. “Very… super.”

 

Dave drained the last of the water from his bottle and stretched his neck one last time before preparing to return to the fray. He took a few steps towards the sound of screaming children before turning back for just a second.

 

“This isn’t exactly in line with the bat-code, but seeing as you already know my secret identity… if you wanted to…y’know coffee or something...” he trailed off, uncertainty creeping into his usually confident tone. “I mean, I don’t look half bad in jeans either, is all.”

 

“Oh…” Hal’s eyes widened in surprise but he found himself nodding without stopping to consider why.

 

The sigh of relief he head was also unexpected. “Great. Just uh…. look I don’t have a pen but wait up after the kids go home?”

 

Another nod. “S-sure.”

 

With that, Dave returned the party, and Hal was left alone at the table again, a little confused by what had just happened, but on the whole, oddly pleased.

 

 _Besides_ , he reasoned. _It’s not every day Batman asks you out._


	17. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: hal and daves first (and probably second too) kiss p-please

The first kiss… wasn’t a big deal. Or at least that’s what they told themselves. How many nights had they spent like that, too tired to work, too tired to move, sitting together on whatever passed for a sofa in their latest digs? Empty cans being knocked over by clumsy feet as the television droned on into the night, ignored. At times like that, Snake could feel himself becoming more relaxed. Not just a loosening of his muscles, but an easing of the mind. He spoke more freely about the plans, commented idly on the movie they weren’t watching-

-he talks about himself.

And it’s in those moments that Hal finds himself speechless, not wanting to miss a word of it. It might just be a stupid story about Dave’s dogs or the first time he had a slice of blueberry pie but he can’t help but think these stories are important. Or maybe they’re just important because they’re being shared. 

He hates that he has to get up, pulls himself from the threadbare cushions to go to the restroom, get a glass of water and clear his head. 

Of course he trips and falls.

Of course Dave catches him.

It’s all kind of hazy, but Hal’s still riding the high of being allowed ‘in’, the feeling of a shared vulnerability reminding him that the so called legend is nowhere to be found. The arms holding him belong to his friend. And his friend is just a man.

It’s just a peck on the cheek, perhaps if Dave had turned his head a little it might have grazed his lips. A thank you, nothing more. For being there to catch him. For opening up. Hal rights himself and totters off on unsteady legs. He doesn’t think much of it, forgets it almost entirely the next day.

Dave struggles to do the same.


	18. A Special Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mightyscrub requested: au where dave is an artist and hal is the furry who frequently commissions strange yet benign porn art from him until they become best friends

**to: davesnake@yahoo.com  
from: otaku80@gmail.com**

Hey Dave!   
Wanted to hit you up, see if you had any commission slots open atm.

-H

**to: otaku80@gmail.com  
from: davesnake@yahoo.com**

Hey Hal,  
Always have a slot for my best customer, lol.  
What are ya looking for this time around?

-Dave

**to: davesnake@yahoo.com  
from: otaku80@gmail.com**

Oh, haha, am I really? ^_^;; I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

It might seem a little strange… I’m actually a little on the fence about asking…

**to: otaku80@gmail.com  
from: davesnake@yahoo.com**

You know how I pay the bills right? ;) ‘A little strange’ is probably nothing I haven’t been asked for before.

(And it’s a good thing, don’t worry.)

-Dave

**to: davesnake@yahoo.com  
from: otaku80@gmail.com**

Ahaha, cool cool. Um. Geez. I don’t even know how to ask this. Maybe if would have been better if I’d gone to someone else, less weird or something, but you always have such a good handle on what I want, even when I’m bad about putting it in words. Plus you always totally nail Otacon… I mean the look. Augh!

-H

**to: otaku80@gmail.com  
from: davesnake@yahoo.com**

Hey, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s gonna be awesome. Lay it on me, man.

-Dave

**to: davesnake@yahoo.com  
from: otaku80@gmail.com**

You’re really too nice to me. ^_^;;;;;  
I saw that you have a ‘sona of your own? Or I think so, maybe. You had some doodle scraps sort of tucked in between all the finished commissions that didn’t have a buyer’s name or anything, so I assumed that was yours? The husky?

…I’m starting to think this is really weird again. You can say no, of course but-  
-uh, would you be willing to draw him and Otacon? I dunno, just thought it would be cool…

It doesn’t have to be anything wild! I don’t want to presume anything about er, anything.

Oh man I feel like such a dork. It’s okay, you really don’t have to do it. >_>

**-H**

**to: otaku80@gmail.com  
from: davesnake@yahoo.com**

Hey… that actually sounds like a lot of fun! :)  
I think Snake would get along just fine with Otacon.  
I’ll get right on it!

-Dave

 

 

~~And then they yiffed happily ever after. Probably.~~


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from Anon: How about Kaz finding out that Big Boss isn't actually dead?

“Come now, it hasn’t been as long as all that, now has it?”

 

Miller glared from his seat, arms pulled tight behind him, lips still bright red from the struggle. A growl rumbled at the back of his throat as the silver-haired man before him stepped forward, plucking the pair of fallen glasses from the floor. He hadn’t even had the decency to track ice into the cabin, the damn cat.

 

“We’re almost at the end now, of our little agreement, and I’ve come to make good on my side of the bargain.”

 

“Is that all you’re here for? To gloat over your victory? You and that brat?”

 

Ocelot flashed a sliver of a smile. “He’s certainly nothing like the obedient dog you ended up training, although I admit I must envy you that. It must have been much easier, working with such a pliant mind…” His fingers fluttered over the holster at his side, pausing only as a single bead of sweat rolled down Miller’s neck to glint in the frigid air.

 

“It’s too bad for Eli the plans for his little coup were doomed from the start, but that hardly matters to us now, doesn’t it?” He pulled the revolver out at last, bringing it in one graceful swoop to rest gently beneath his opponent’s jaw.

 

“Foolishness really, some nonsense about restoring Outer Heaven, reviving the Boss’s vision and I suppose in some way, the Boss himself.” He leaned in at that, the weathered skin of his cheek resting flush against Miller’s golden grey stubble. His voice grew softer, almost overshadowed by the soft click of the pistol, cradled gently in cracked red leather.

 

“But then, you can’t revive what hasn’t died.”

Kazuhira Miller closes his eyes and for a brief second he thinks of the past, and of loss, figureheads and phantoms. He thinks about David.

He thinks of peace.


End file.
